


Tonight

by nerdypipsqueak



Series: Requests, drabbles, short stories [3]
Category: Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Seven Pillars of Wisdom - T. E. Lawrence
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottoming from the Top, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex, discussion of sexual preferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypipsqueak/pseuds/nerdypipsqueak
Summary: Follow-up to "Mine".Lawrence and Feisal talk about... things. Lawrence tries something new.





	Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Alienor (who requested "Mine") was curious to find out how "tonight" would pan out. So here it is, I hope you like it!

_"The only hands I want on me are your hands."_  
Those words have been echoing in Feisal's head all day long, distracting him from his everyday duties. The thought of Lawrence's beautiful pale skin beneath his hands, all warmth, softness and sweet surrender, is almost too much to bear. When the sun finally sets he finds himself running back to his quarters. Their quarters.  
Lawrence is lying on his stomach on the bed, reading what appears to be a Turkish field report. He looks positively adorable like that, with his legs bent at the knees, one foot tracing idle circles in midair. There's a fire burning in the hearth, the flames casting a warm honey-like glow over him.  
"Why do you insist on working in bed?" Feisal crosses the room in swift, long strides. "That's not what beds are for."  
"I'm almost done." Lawrence answers in a distant voice. He doesn't even look up and Feisal feels irrationally jealous of that piece of paper that's captured his companion's attention. He climbs onto the bed and sits directly on Lawrence's white-clad rear, straddling him.  
"That report can wait till morning." Feisal starts kneading the Englishman's shoulders, his grip firm and gentle at the same time. "You've done enough today."  
"Are you _quite_ comfortable?" Lawrence turns to look at him, the twist of his body sending a jolt of excitement through Feisal.  
"You're soft. I wonder, would you let me take you like this?"  
"On all fours, like an animal? Heavens, no!" Lawrence looks scandalized and although it's amusing to watch, Feisal takes note of that reaction for the future. He rolls off and onto his side, pulling the other man into his arms.  
"Well, there's also this." He breathes against the skin just beneath Lawrence's ear. "Although this is something I prefer to do in the morning. It's easy and languid, not much of an exertion for either party but a pleasant start to a long day."  
"Are you trying to educate me?" Lawrence laughs. "How is it that you know so much about this?"  
"Books, sweetheart, with illustrations. And a few adventures." Feisal allows his hands to wander a little, moving in long, slow strokes.  
"You had lovers."  
"Yes, I did. Does that bother you?"  
"Does my lack of experience bother you?"  
"You know it doesn't. I see it as a privilege to be your first."  
"Hmm." Lawrence turns around and pulls Feisal in for a kiss. It's bolder than his usual soft, slow kisses. It's deep, demanding, open-mouthed. It goes straight to Feisal's head and groin.  
"I love it when you get like this." He murmures, his hands working on the buttons of Lawrence's thawb. "I love it when you're open about your desires. I've been waiting all day to touch you, to hold you."  
"You did promise me that earlier today, that you would put your hands on me. I can't wait."  
"I am a man of my word." Feisal pushes the open thawb out of his way and runs a hand down the exposed skin. Soon his mouth follows, exploring, seeking out the spots that he knows will make Lawrence shiver, gasp and moan with pleasure. Slowly he descends, revelling in the feeling of hands in his hair, until he reaches the waistband of Lawrence's white sirwal. "Would you let me pleasure you with my mouth?"  
"Good heavens, no! I... oh God... I find the notion of... hmm... I can't possibly ask you do perform an act I would not be comfortable performing."  
"What would you be comfortable doing?"  
Lawrence takes Feisal by the hands and guides him to lie back, half-sitting against the pillows. Gracefully he rises from the bed and begins undressing. "I remember the way you looked at me today. You were devouring me with your eyes. I'd never seen such hunger before."  
"Forgive me..." Feisal starts, discarding his own clothes.  
"Ah-ah." Lawrence sinks onto his lap, straddling him. "There's nothing to forgive. You felt threatened by Ali, didn't you?"  
Feisal just nods, absolutely fascinated by what he sees in front of him. Lawrence has never acted like this before, so in control, so wonderfully sure of himself and his own beauty. It's a spectacular sight to behold.  
"He wants me." Lawrence carries on. "But I will not have him. There is only one man that I love, one man that I desire. I could never give myself to another. I am yours."  
That is almost too much for Feisal. He pulls the Englishman down for a deep, wild kiss. It's all tongues and teeth and wet heat, roving hands, shivering bodies. Then suddenly Lawrence pauses, his cheeks flushed pink, lips swollen. "You are going to have to help me."  
"Absolutely." Feisal reaches for the scented oil. It's a bit awkward at first, this is not the easiest of angles and he's so used to being on top. This is new, different and very exciting. Finally Lawrence lowers himself onto Feisal's aching shaft and it's unlike anything they've ever shared before. It's intense, that feeling of tight, oil-slicked muscles, trembling thighs, gasping breaths. Lawrence takes his sweet time to test different speeds and angles and all Feisal can do is hold onto his undulating hips, supporting him.  
"Oh!" Lawrence cries out and it's plain to see that he's found the angle he needs.  
"That's it." Feisal tells him, gripping his hips a little tighter. "Keep doing that."  
Another sweet cry, an arm flung out, fingers gripping the headboard for extra support, he's so hot and tight, he's the most beautiful man in the world, so completely lost in his pleasure, nobody else gets to see him like this, nobody else gets to hear those low moans. Nobody but Feisal.  
"Please..." Lawrence moans, forgetting that he's the one in control, that he can give himself what he needs so desperately.  
"Sweetheart." Feisal strokes his chest, his neck, then pulls him down so their foreheads are touching. "I want to see you, I want to see your pleasure."  
So Lawrence straightens up, tossing his head back and comes. He's beyond beautiful, he's stunning, the very sight of him pushing Feisal over the edge.  
Minutes later, when they can finally move again, Feisal wraps his arms around Lawrence, showering him with kisses and gentle chaste caresses. "Thank you."  
"What for?" Lawrence murmures drowsily.  
"For your love and trust. I wouldn't mind seeing this side of you every now and then."  
Lawrence just makes a happy little sound deep in his throat and curls, exhausted, into Feisal's arms.


End file.
